Love Me Dead
by muzacgurl4ever
Summary: This is an AU story set in an old Film Noir genre. New York City, 1945: a private eye with a beastly side and a femme fatal ex-girlfriend with a secret of her own. There's murder, mystery, humor, and of course romance. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS, JUST BORROWING FOR THE STORY.**

Summary: This is an AU story set in an old _Film Noir_ genre. A private eye with a beastly side and a femme fatal ex-girlfriend with a secret of her own. There's murder, mystery, humor, and of course romance. Enjoy!

**Chapter One: **

**You Always Hurt the One You Love**

New York City, 1945…

A beautiful city by day, but at night, it was a different story. You see, at night that's when real New York showed its face. In the dark corners of the city the crooks, the cheats and those frankly up to no good came out of the shadows to play. It was no place for just any woman to be walking alone at night but then Catherine Chandler was not just any woman. Vincent Keller knew that all too well…

"Hold all my calls Heather. I don't want to be disturbed tonight." Vincent walked past his secretary's desk with his coat swung over his shoulder. It had been a long day for the P.I. and he just wanted to sit back in his room with a nice glass of scotch.

"You got it Boss." She closed her compact and went back to sort of working. Heather would have rather been designing and planning fancy events than fetching coffee for her sister's ex, but it was a job and she needed the money. It wasn't all bad. She had done some redecorating in the office. A few ruffled pillows on the chair and some fresh-cut flowers helped detract from the chipped paint on the walls and the leaks on the ceiling. Vincent just gave a half-hearted smile and headed into his office closing the door behind him.

The room was empty and cold, just how he felt inside. He wouldn't admit it, but his life had never felt the same after _she _left. But that was over now and he was trying to move on. However, you can't move too far from destiny. Sooner or later it will find you. And for Vincent it was a lot sooner than he wanted.

A steady thumping beat pulsated in the detective's head as he sat back in his chair admiring the harbor just outside his office window. It was familiar and for a moment he got lost in its rhythm, until reality smacked him in the face.

"I thought I told you never to come back here." Vincent sat in his swivel chair with his back to the door. He knew exactly who the owner of that heartbeat was without even looking.

"And I told you to get out of my life. I guess we were both mistaken." Vincent spun around. He wasn't ready to see her, especially in that black number she had on, but he managed to speak.

"What do you mean?" Catherine slipped off her black perch hat and held it in front of her. Even in the poorly lit office, Vincent could see her emerald eyes piercing through the room. A distraction, but one he told himself he could handle.

"You hired my sister as your new secretary. That's not really staying out my life." She strode across the room and stood in front of the oak desk. Vincent sat back in the chair with clasped hands across his chest and a smirk on his face.

"She needed a job." Catherine's eyes narrowed in on him.

"Heather can't type."

"Why are you here Cat?" He sat up and straightened a few papers in front of him, trying not to look at her for too long.

"I need your help." Sensing his uneasiness, Catherine placed both hands on the desk and leaned in towards him. The sweet scent of her jasmine perfume was clouding his ability to reason anything else. He shook his head and stood up.

"Kind of figured that. So what can I do for you?"

"A gem, meant a lot to my…friend and it was stolen. I need you to find it and get it back." Vincent grabbed his hat off the rack and spun it around.

"What about your father? You know, he is the police commissioner. Why not ask him for help?"

"This job needs someone with your _unique _talents. And also requires a bit of discretion."

"I'll need a little more information than that." Cat smiled and placed her hat back on.

"Later, now I have somewhere to be. You can meet me at the Gentleman's Guild say around ten?" Vincent folded his arms across his chest a surprised look on his face.

"The Gentleman's Guild? Since when did you start showing your face around there?" The Guild was his safe haven, a place he knew she'd never set foot in and now that was gone.

"Since my boyfriend just became the new owner."

"_Boyfriend?_"

"Yes, are you surprised I moved on?" He was, a little. It wasn't too long ago that title was his, but he played it off as no big deal.

"No, not at all. So whose is this guy?

"Gabriel Lowen." A slight shimmer of yellow flashed across his irises. He turned his face away from her till he could regain his composure after hearing that name.

"The ADA, really? Is he the _friend_ you were talking about?" Catherine stepped back, not really wanting to have this conversation.

"Maybe. Look do you want the job or not? Truth be told I came here as a favor to you."

"A favor? How is me tracking down your new boyfriend's rock a favor to me?" He tossed his hat on the desk and stared her down.

"As you know Gabe does not want for much in this world. He's willing to pay a generous sum for finding and returning the gem." Catherine darted her eyes around the room. "And looking around this place you could use it." The knife she had in him twisted a little deeper. Their eyes locked and even through all the ire that stare possessed the old spark still remained between them. A fact they could not deny.

Vincent clenched his jaw and was the first to look away.

Catherine had realized the sting her words may have cause and tried to lighten the mood. "After this job you might be able to afford that boat you always wanted."

"You hate boats. They made you sick." Vincent stared down at the wooden floorboards, a slight smile appearing on his face. Catherine's face softened and she replied softly,

"Yes."

"Make it ten thirty. I have some things to do." He gave in. He didn't agree to take the job just yet, but he thought he should at least hear her out. He owed her that much.

"See you then." Catherine turned and headed out the door. Vincent looked up as the door closed behind her. He grabbed the bottle off the desk and poured the amber liquid into the empty glass. It wasn't the healthiest way to deal with his feelings but it was the only thing that would get him through this night. And he knew right then it was going to be a long one.

(Where will this night lead? Stay tuned….. )


	2. Chapter 2: Love In This Club

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS. JUST BORROWING THEM**

**Chapter 2: **

**Love in This Club**

The Gentleman's Guild was once just a watering hole, a refuge for poor souls looking for something to ease their troubles. That was until the new "suit" came in and took over the joint. Everything from the stage to the bar had been redone and upgraded. It was nice and all, but Vincent Keller didn't like change, especially when that change was named Gabriel Lowen.

"Scotch Big Guy?" JT asked as Vincent slid onto one of the new leather bar stools in front of him.

"Not tonight. I'm working." He said knowing he had already downed two glasses before he had arrived at the club.

"When has that ever stopped you before?" JT dried off the glass with a towel and then set it on the bar. Vincent looked up at his old friend and gave in.

"Ah, what the hell? Hit me." JT smiled and poured the 30 year-old malt into the crystal glass. Vincent grabbed the drink and downed it in one swig. He needed all the liquid courage he could get if he was going to see _her_ again. But he realized as the last drop hit his lips it was going to take a lot more than one drink, or three, could provide.

"Waiting for me?" A soft a silky voice rang through his ears as he placed the glass down on the bar and turned his head. There she stood; an angel of perfection at first glance, but he knew behind those piercing eyes that woman could take your soul.

"You're late." Vincent stared her up and down her black satin dress hugging every curve of her body. He did his best to remain indifferent towards her but she sure was making it difficult.

'You're early." She pointed to the clock above the bar. Vincent looked up and saw it was only a quarter past ten. "I think you've had one too many." He turned back to Catherine, his eyes narrowing in on hers. If looks could kill they'd both be six feet under.

"Hello Ms. Chandler can I get you anything?" JT squeaked out hoping to break up the tension. Catherine turned to the happy-go-lucky bartender and smiled.

"I'll take a Martini, dirty, thank you." Vincent suppressed his remark with a smile. Catherine looked back at him, rolling her eyes.

"One dirty Martini coming up!" JT grabbed the shaker and gin and started pouring. Vincent couldn't help himself and let out a laugh. Catherine smacked his shoulder.

"What?" he said, still trying to wipe the smile from his face.

"Real mature."

"Well if you weren't such a tease…"

"If you're not going to take this seriously..." Catherine grabbed her purse from off the bar and started to turn away.

"Cat wait," Vincent reached out and grabbed her hand, the touch sending an electric surge that had not been felt by either one of them for some time. Catherine stared down at her hand than back up at Vincent. He just looked at her, lost for words but eventually found some. "Dance with me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They're playing our song. And besides you can talk and dance at the same time can't ya?"

"I suppose one dance wouldn't hurt." She laid her purse back down on the bar.

"What about your drink?" JT asked, slipping the olive into the glass.

"It's all yours!" Vincent shouted back as he led Catherine out into the crowded dance floor. JT smiled and slugged down the drink.

The trombone started the song, soon followed by the piano and the rest of the band. The curtains parted and Tess stepped out into the spotlight in her Sea Green Chiffon dress complemented by the white lily in her hair. She took her place in front of the microphone and began to sing the dulcet lyrics of _Stormy Weather._ A classic song, filled with longing for a love that once was. A perfect theme for the two the ex-lovers.

"Hold on, this wasn't our song." Catherine said as Vincent wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

"It could be." He said with a grin, but then went back to business. "So about this gem, any more details you can fill me in on?"

"It was an heirloom, an emerald, which has been in Gabe's family for generations. He believes it was taken by a man who goes by the name Tony Barnes."

"Tony Barnes? New York's own shadowy Crime Boss that no one has ever seen, Tony Barnes?"

"Yes, one in the same." She replied as they swayed to the music.

"He's just a myth, a name other gangsters use to scare off their rivals. He doesn't exist." Vincent slid his hand up her back, applying a little pressure. He gently lowered Catherine supporting her body with his arm and brought her back up only inches from his face. Not expecting that, Catherine said through bated breath,

"He does. And you know I'm telling you the truth." Vincent listened to the sound of her heartbeat, unable to tell if its sudden increase was due to a lie or their close proximity. For him he knew his own was the latter. Instead he followed the truth to her eyes, which could never lie to him.

Vincent broke away from her stare and continued, "So what makes your _boyfriend_ so sure it was this Tony Barnes?"

"As you know Gabriel is an ADA and has put away a lot of bad men. He thinks this is retribution for putting away a member of Tony's crew." Catherine said still trying to regain her composure.

"What's so special about this gem? I mean it's an odd way for a supposed crime boss to send message. A pair of cement shoes or something else in his bed to keep him warm at night seems more fitting."

"I resent that." She said with feigned indignation. Even she couldn't help but smile at his vulgar comment.

"No you don't." A slight flush of red made its way to her face. There was this intense pull between them, no matter how hard she tried she couldn't deny it.

"So how was I?" Tess sauntered up to the couple excited for her first night as the club's new singer. The two didn't even realize she had finished the song and now only the band remained playing some background music.

"Just beautiful honey." Catherine said as she slipped out of Vincent's arms remembering where she was.

"Nice to see again, Tess." Vincent said as he straightened his jacket and placed his hands in his pockets.

"Oh hey Vinnie." The sarcasm in her voice was spilling over into her Brooklyn accent. Tess hooked her arm with Catherine's and pulled her over to the bar. Vincent followed close behind. "What's he doing here?" She leaned over and whispered to Catherine.

"You know I can hear you?" Vincent said as he leaned back against the bar.

"That was the point." Tess retorted. "Cat, doll, you know you're with Gabe right? I mean if he came in here and saw you dancing with your ex like that…I don't care how nice a guy he is, that man would blow a gasket."

"It was just a dance and beside we were just discussing work."

"Sure you weren't working it?" Tess smiled and gave her a wink.

"Tess!"

"Alright, alright I'll stop! Hey TJ what's you say you shake that glass and give this girl a drink." JT's head shot up at the sound of Tess' voice.

"What'll it be?" JT was so far gone that he didn't even correct Tess anymore when she called him TJ.

"Surprise me!"

"You got it Doll-face." JT spun around and started whipping up a new drink to the bar scene but one he was sure Tess would enjoy. Something the beach bums in California called a _mai ta_i.

Vincent just looked over at his love-struck friend and shook his head. "So your _boyfriend_, when is he going to show?" Vincent still couldn't get over the fact that Cat had fallen for the ADA. There was always something about him he didn't like; something he didn't trust.

"He has a name you know?" Catherine raised her eyebrow realizing Vincent did everything but spit when he said the word "boyfriend."

"Yes and its Gabriel Lowen." The slick ADA strode up in his expensive pin-stripe suit and slipped his arm around Catherine's waist, surprising her, and pulled her close. A simple gesture claiming his territory. "Nice to see you again Vincent." He eyed the man, his face stoic and hard as stone thinking to himself, _I wish I could say the same. _ Vincent just smiled and replied,

"Yes of course. Always a pleasure." The words were like bile on his tongue, unpleasant and sour.

"Sorry I kept you waiting. I was just discussing some club business you understand." Gabriel talked to Vincent like he was above him, better than him. And he really believed that. Vincent was not about to let him get away with it without getting one jab in himself.

"Of course. Catherine was kind enough to fill me in while we were…"

"While we had a drink at the bar." Catherine interrupted. Vincent tore his eyes away from Gabe and looked over at Catherine. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest. He smiled to himself.

"So what do you say? Will you take the job?" Gabe asked. Vincent kept his eyes on Catherine.

"Yeah, I'll take the job."

"Excellent. Well, I have a club to manage and people to schmooze. Catherine, shall we?" Gabe turned his head to her.

"Yes I'll be there in a minute." He leaned in, kissed her cheek and left the bar to go socialize with the money.

"Can I have a word with you?" Without waiting for an answer, Catherine grabbed Vincent by the arm and pulled him to the side leaving Tess to her mai tai and JT to staring at Tess. "This is just about the job, right?" She said in a harsh whisper.

"Of course. Like you said I could use the money." He said keeping his face as calm as possible after seeing Gabe hold her and then kiss her like that.

"Good." She said, simple and to the point.

"Good." He mimicked. Their eyes locked once more, but this time Catherine was the first to tear herself away. She turned and left him there in the corner, stopping once to look back before going to find Gabe. Vincent took a deep breath in and returned to the bar to find JT there alone wiping down the counter.

"Tess leave?" He asked as he slid back onto the stool.

"Yeah. Some guy pulled her away." JT said, a defeated look on his face.

"Sorry buddy." Vincent passed the empty glass back and forth between his hands.

"Hey Vincent you're gonna let me help right?" Vincent stopped the glass in place and looked up.

"What are you talking about?"

"With this case. I can help this time. I swear." JT's face was practically begging him to say yes, but Vincent knew his work was far too dangerous for his old friend.

"No and stop asking."

"But I know things. When people have one too many they get pretty chatty." That peaked Vincent's interest. He wasn't the social type and any information he could get would be helpful.

"What do you know?"

"Let me come along and I'll tell you everything. Come on Big Guy! I got gotta get out from behind this bar and show Tess that I'm a real man of mystery and adventure." Vincent looked at JT with a small amount of pity for the guy.

"You want to help me track down one of the worst crime bosses this city has ever seen and risk your life for a girl?"

"Isn't that what you're doing?" That question made Vincent stop and really think about his motives for taking on this case. JT had a knack for pointing out the obvious, even if it wasn't obvious to Vincent. A little annoying, but it was the truth even if he didn't want to admit it. "Come on! The two us back together. It will be like old times!" Vincent dropped his head and then stood up.

"Fine, but you're not staying at my place."

(The Bromance is back! What kind of trouble will they get themselves into and how will Vincent and Catherine do when they are forced to work together to solve this case? Stay tuned…)


	3. Chapter 3: Love Game

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS. JUST BORROWING THEM.**

**Chapter 3: Love Game**

The rain from earlier in the evening had wetted the asphalt roads making them glisten under the street lamps. Vincent made his way down West 49th street and deep into the heart of _Hell's Kitchen_. Not a neighborhood just anyone ventured into or for that matter wanted to. The name said it all; a real boiling pot of vices. The P.I. wasn't much of a cook, but he didn't mind a little heat.

After agreeing to his old friend's demands to let him help out on the case, JT had given Vincent some information he had overheard in a conversation between some low-level gangster named Shaky and his pal Ray. They had mentioned something about a backroom poker game being held at the Chinese restaurant, _Chimera_. All the heavy hitters in the crime world were supposed to attend said game. This was the perfect opportunity for Vincent to get some useful information on this Tony Barnes character.

It was getting late and the chill of the winter air picked up. Vincent popped the collar up on his coat and placed his hands in the corduroy-lined pockets. He was grateful for his black Kersey wool pea coat the army had issued him during the war. It was the one good thing that came out of his time there; the rest he didn't like to think about.

The P.I. turned the corner and ducked into a dark alley. His heightened senses had picked up someone following him for some time, he as just waiting for the perfect opportunity to deal with it. Vincent waited until the anxious heartbeat got closer to turn out of the shadows. He grabbed the stalker by the neck and forced him up against the alley wall.

"Wait, Big Guy, it's me!" JT's gurgled words came out as his windpipe was being crushed underneath Vincent's grasp.

"JT?" Vincent released his friend and stepped back. "What the hell are you doing following me here?"

"You said I could help." JT rubbed his neck and took a few labored breaths.

"Yeah, I meant from behind a desk, where it's safe."

"I'm in this. Let me help!" Vincent stared at his friend. There weren't many other options; he was already here and Vincent wasn't going to risk sending him back home alone.

"Well, I can't very well leave you here. Come on." A big grin made its way to JT's face. He bent down, picked up his hat and placed it back on his head. Vincent had already started walking away as JT ran to catch up.

It wasn't that much further down the road to _Chimera's_. Vincent stepped out into the street to cross when two bright headlights came out of nowhere. The cobalt blue Ford Deluxe screeched to a halt coming within inches of legs. Vincent squinted to see who the driver of the vehicle was. He was both surprised and annoyed at the same time. And she felt the same way.

"What, you too?" Vincent said wondering who else was going to join him on his undercover operation. Catherine turned off the engine and got out of the car.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as she held open the door.

"What are you doing here?" Vincent replied.

"I asked you first!"

"This isn't the schoolyard, honey." Vincent adjusted his coat and stood up straight, trying to hide the fact that he was still a little shaken from almost being run over. Catherine, realizing where they were headed asked,

"Wait, are you going in there?"

"What if I am?" JT looked back and forth between the two, feeling like the only adult there.

"You can't go in there." Catherine's demeanor turned from annoyance to worry. Vincent could tell something was off with her by the way her heart rate increased, but he was too blinded by his own anger that he ignored it.

"Look, Cat, we aren't together anymore. You can't tell me what I can and can't do. Besides we're working on your boyfriend's case, remember. So how's about you leave us to it." Vincent started to head toward the restaurant, JT following close beside him.

"Vincent, wait." All pretense was off; Catherine decided the truth was her only option. "You can't go in there because, well…because my father's in there." Vincent's feet locked in place and he turned back. The veins beneath his skin became more prominent and his irises flashed yellow. To say there was bad blood between them would have been an understatement.

"And why does that not surprise me."

"It's not what you think." She tried to smooth over the situation, but she knew it would be difficult given the history between Vincent and her father.

"What I think and what I know are the same. All of New York's Head crime bosses are in there and you're telling me that the police commissioner being there too is just a coincidence? I don't think so. Once a dirty cop always a dirty cop." Vincent started walking again not really sure of what he was going to do when he got in there.

"He's drinking again." Cat shouted back to him, a slight hint of pain in her voice. Vincent stopped. "I got a call from the owner to come get him, before he had to call the cops. You know how he gets. I didn't have a choice." Vincent knew all too well. He shut his eyes, regretting being such a jerk.

"JT, find her old man and get him out of there. Then go with her and make sure they get home okay."

"But what about our case?"

"JT, I'm not asking."

"Fine." JT's shoulders slumped as he headed across the street and into the restaurant. Catherine kept her eyes on Vincent, for a moment seeing the man she once knew. He turned back to her.

"I'll just stay out of sight until you leave." He started to head back into the shadows, but was stopped by her voice.

"Vincent?" He turned his head to the side, savoring the way she said his name just then. There was no irritation or anger in her tone, but something else. "Be careful." He smiled and proceeded back down a side alley to hide out of sight.

Vincent watched from the shadows as JT dragged the commissioner out the door towards Catherine's car. It wasn't an easy task, seeing as her father became quite handsy when he was drunk. Vincent had to stifle a laugh as Bob kept squeezing JT's face and asking him why he looked so glum. Vincent was betting JT regretted asking him to help out now.

Once Vincent was certain the car was gone, he made his way out of the alley and into _Chimera._ The place was dark, the only light coming from the paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling and a few candles on the tables. The cloud of cigarette and cigar smoke also didn't help one's visibility. But that was probably the point; the people in this place didn't want to be recognized.

Vincent took a seat at the counter. One of the waiters came up, placed a small cup in front of him and poured in some tea. Vincent picked it up and brought the rim to him lips.

"And what can I do for you, sweetheart?" Vincent closed his mouth and turned to the woman who had slipped onto the seat next to him. A sly smile crept on his face; he still had it. He leaned in, whispered something in her ear and slid a few folded bills across the counter into her hand. The woman smiled, took the cash and stuffed it in her bra. She slid off the stool and headed to the back of the room where a man stood guard. His jacket was padded in the shoulders and fitted at the waist to give him a "larger than life" appearance; a fashion trend among the criminal scene. Vincent glanced back and watched as his distraction plan fell into action.

It didn't take much persuading on the woman's part to get the man to leave his post. It was after all her profession and from the looks of her, she was damn good at it. Vincent left a few dollars on the table for his half eaten dim sum and made his way to the back. He pulled back the red silk curtain and headed down the narrow hallway. He could hear the shuffling of cards, clinking of poker chips against the table and few hearty laughs coming from the room at the end of the hall. Vincent was so focused on the men at the poker table that he didn't sense the presence of someone coming from behind.

'_Click'_

Vincent recognized that sound all too well. After having served in the army and been shot a few times, he knew exactly what a gun being cocked sounded like. Especially when that gun was only inches away from his head.

**What is in store for the Beastly Private Eye and how will he get his way out of this mess? Stay tuned… **

(Bonus Teaser: Chapter 4 is titled "(Love is) Thicker than Water." Things might get a little…wet.)


	4. Chapter 4: Love Is Thicker Than Water

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS. JUST BORROWING THEM FOR THE STORY**

**Chapter 4: (Love is) Thicker than Water**

"Not another move buster or you'll be eating lead." Vincent could feel the muzzle of the gun press up against his head. He could easily turn right around and break the lowlife's neck before he had a chance to blink, but that would have defeated the point of being there in the first place. He needed information, and killing a few lackeys no matter how insignificant they were was not going to earn him any brownie points with these guys; at least not yet.

"I don't mean any harm. Just here to do business is all." He lifted his arms as a sign of good faith. "Stalky sent me."

"Yeah, well we'll see about that." The thug jabbed Vincent with the gun a few time signaling him to move forward. He played it cool and went along with it. He was almost in.

"Hey, look what I found lurking about in the hall where he don't belong." Vincent was pushed forward into the dark, smoke-filled room the only light coming from the lamp hanging from the ceiling. The four men at the poker table fell silent and eyed Vincent while their muscle kept one hand on their weapons ready to fire when given the word.

"Ray, what did I tell you about bringing anyone back here?" One of the men at the table yelled. Vincent could tell from the whisky on his breath and the slight inflection of an Irish accent breaking though that he was Gregory Cole, leader of the East River Syndicate. Their territory was around his old neighborhood in Queens and had heard about him.

"He said Stalky sent him." Ray said his voice shaking slightly.

"That don't mean I know him." Cole took another swig of his drink and stared Vincent up and down. "You got a name?"

"Vincent Keller. I just got back from overseas and I've collected a few debts if you know what I mean. Straight up, I need a job. I was told this is where I'd find the right men who could use my services." Ray scoffed at his comment and asked,

"What kind of service can this washed up G.I. do that's any better than the rest of us?" Vincent smiled. Without hesitation, he turned grabbed the gun out Ray's hand and flipped it around on him. The other men in the room just stared for a moment but then reacted. Simultaneous clicks sounded off behind Vincent. He let the gun slip down around his finger and held up his arms. One of the flunkies grabbed the gun from him. Vincent turned back around to the table.

"Just wanted to show you a little taste of what I'm capable of. And believe me, I'm someone you'll want to have around if things get a bit…hairy." The four men at the poker table exchanged glances and then looked back over to Vincent.

"Alright, soldier, you've got skill but how do we know you ain't a cop?" Vincent let out a laugh.

"I know you have no reason to trust me yet, but believe me when I say I have just as much issue with the cops as you gentlemen. And besides, do you really think a cop would come down here, unarmed and without back-up? I don't think so." Vincent made a valid point, any self-respecting police officer wouldn't be caught dead there, unless he actually _had_ a death wish. Gregory looked to the man at the head of the table. He gave him an approving nod.

"Are you really going to believe this guy?" Ray shouted.

"Shut it Ray!" Cole yelled, slamming his hand on the table. "Well Mr. Keller, lucky for you we are in need of a little extra muscle seeing as a few of our men had an unfortunate accident."

"Too bad for them, but good for me. But before I start, I'd like to know who I'm getting into bed with." Cole eyed the soldier, but granted his request.

"I'm Gregory Cole, leader of the East River Syndicate. This over here is Pete Franco, he's the son of the Don Franco head of the Italian mafia over in Staten Island. The two behind him are Shorty and Ian. He had a brother Patrick, but he got out of the game." Pete lifted his chin in acknowledgment and then slicked a hand back through his well-oiled hair. Gregory continued, "Over here, is Marco Bustamante, him and his crew work the drug trade in the Bronx area." Marco smiled revealing his yellow teeth and fidgeted with his nose a couple of times. It was clear that he not only supplied the drugs but also took some on the side for himself.

Vincent gave the two leaders a nod but turned his head to the man sitting in between them; the one they all looked to for approval. His face was clean-shaven, his hair perfectly combed back and he had on the gaudiest white suit Vincent had ever seen. There was not one thing about this man that screamed gangster, jazz band player sure, but not head of any crime organization. And yet he was at the table. "And this is Samuel Landon."

"And what is it that you do?" Vincent spoke up, curious why the others' heart rates increased when they looked or spoke of him. Samuel's lips curved up on one side, a half-smile that was somewhat unsettling.

"I have friends in high places." He responded. Vincent met his eyes, not giving up that easily.

"What kind of friends?"

"You sure do ask a lot of questions?" The man standing behind Landon came out the shadows, protecting his boss.

"It's alright, Frank. If you must know, Tony Barnes is one of the friends I was referring to. I am his eyes and ears to the outside world. I trust you have heard of him."

"Of course, but I thought he was just a myth."

"I can assure you he is as real as you or me. And this job Cole mentioned was ordered by him. So are you in?"

"Do I get any more information?"

"You will be getting further detail tomorrow when you show up at the Navy docks down by Pier 88 at 5:00pm sharp. Oh and show up in something formal. Do you own a suit Keller?" Vincent thought about the last suit he had worn. It ended up covered in blood and dirt.

"No, sir."

"I thought as much. Before the meet, stop by Bishop Bros. Suit Shop down in Brooklyn. Ask for Darius and he will find you something. We're done here." Vincent smiled at Sam and turned to leave. Ray stood by the door, blocking his way out. Vincent's eyes flashed yellow, causing Ray to stumble back, shock and fear written all over his face. Vincent just brushed past him, smiling all the way out the door.

"What am I doing?" Catherine said to herself as she turned the corner onto West 49th St. She had left JT at her apartment to look after her father as he slept off the alcohol-induced coma on her couch. Then she got back in her car and headed back down into _Hell's Kitchen_. It was foolish, but her heart wouldn't allow her let it go.

The streets were even quieter than before as she pulled up to the restaurant. That was never a good sign. Catherine parked her car in the shadows as not to be seen and then snuck around to the back entrance. The door was locked but that wasn't a problem for her. Catherine bent down and pulled a few Bobby pins from her hair, loose curls falling down around her shoulders. She took the larger one and snapped it in half bending it slightly to create a tension wrench. It took a little maneuvering, but eventually the lock clicked. A triumphant smile made its way to Catherine's face. Picking locks wasn't something a girl was supposed to know how to do; just another handy skill she picked up during her time with Vincent. Catherine stood up and grabbed the door handle.

"Not so fast sweetheart." Catherine turned around slowly and saw two men with revolvers pointed directly at her. "Now where do you think you're going?"

"My boyfriend works here and I just wanted to surprise him by coming in the back." A quick lie off the top her head she was hoping they would buy, but that wasn't going to be the case.

"Hey, Shorty don't she look like the one in all those society pages? You know the one who's dating the ADA."

"You know, Ian, you're right."

"I just have one of those faces." Catherine said nervously.

"No, you're her." Ian said waving the pistol at her.

"I don't really care for the ADA. He's the one that put away my brother." Shorty spit out, his eyes narrowing in on Catherine.

"It isn't going to do you any good if anything happens to me." Catherine tried to explain, but these two thugs didn't seem like the rational thinking types. Both men lunged forward grabbing her by the arms.

"We'll see about that. You're coming with us. We're going for a little drive."

The grey Lincoln Coupe pulled up to the docks alongside the old ship yard. Catherine's eyes widened at the towering Navy vessels outside her window. "Are we going for a boat ride, because I have to warn you I tend to get a little sea-sick?" A nervous laugh escaped with her words.

"Sweetheart _we're_ not going anywhere. You, however, will be heading into the Hudson soon enough." The car stopped and Ian turned off the engine. "Get out of the car." Shorty whipped the gun in the air signaling Catherine to move. She did as she was told all the while cursing herself for coming back down there in the first place. Once again, she was caught in another Vincent mess.

"Boys is this really necessary? I mean, Gabriel has a lot of money and he would pay you handsomely for my safe return."

"This isn't about the money, doll. This is pay-back, plain and simple."

"Well in that case," The time for playing the damsel was over. Catherine slammed her heel into Shorty's foot and elbowed him square in the nose. Ian turned around seeing what had happened and aimed the gun Catherine. Before she had time to react, Shorty went flying right into Ian sending both tumbling to the ground. Catherine turned and saw Vincent standing there, a little out of breath but a smile on his face.

"What?" Vincent was expecting some sort of gratitude for saving her, but instead received one of her infamous glares.

"What are you doing here? I had everything under control, thank you very much." Catherine adjusted her coat and brushed off her skirt.

"He had a gun and was about to shoot you! I was just trying to help." Vincent couldn't understand what he did wrong.

"I don't need your help. You obviously haven't changed at all." Catherine stormed off over to the edge of the dock where her purse had been thrown in the struggle.

"Change. I'll show you change Catherine Chandler…" Vincent breathed out under his breath as he turned to follow after her, but he stopped suddenly, his senses picking up the faint click from behind them. Ian had come to while Vincent and Catherine were arguing and gotten a hold of his gun.

"Look out!" A few shots rang out through the midnight air. Vincent lunged forward and grabbed Catherine sending both into the Hudson River below. The two bodies crashed into the frigid dark waters. Ian got up and ran over to the edge of the docks. All he could see was the slight ripple disturbance in the water below. It was quite a long drop down…..

(What happened to the beastly P.I. and our strong-willed Beauty? Find out in the next chapter titled "The Pain of Love." Sometimes, Love hurts….)


	5. Chapter 5: The Pain of Love

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS. JUST BORROWING THEM FOR THE STORY.**

**Chapter 5: The Pain of Love**

"Vincent, where are you?" The question escaped through her chattering teeth as Catherine clung to the beam underneath the dock. They both had fallen into the river at the same time, but Vincent was taking longer to surface. "This is not funny. _Vincent_. " Catherine called his name once more, worry and fear starting to sink in. She was just about to plunge back under to find him.

"What?" Vincent said as he sprung up out of the water from behind her. Catherine took a minute for her heart to return to her chest before she spoke.

"Don't scare me like that!" She swung herself around the beam to face him. "What took you so long?"

"It was dark under there." He said as he grabbed the beam.

"Says the one with animal senses." Catherine was having a hard time believing that someone who had night vision wasn't able to find his way through water.

"I'm part beast, not fish. And why you always gotta bring up the beast thing?"

"I do not always bring up… I am not having this conversation with you now." Catherine turned her head away from Vincent and looked up. She listened for anything that indicated those two thugs were still up there.

"Well it's your fault we're down here anyway." Vincent said, mainly to himself, but Catherine heard.

"How is this my fault?" She spat back.

"You're the one who came back down here. And like always I had to save you, a-gain. My cover's probably blown."

"I was doing just fine. You're the one who pushed me into the river."

"He was going to shoot you!" At this point, their faces were just inches apart, eyes locking neither one of them daring to look away. Both were breathing heavily, mostly due to treading water for so long, but that didn't seem like the only reason. Catherine, hoping to stop herself from saying or rather doing something she regretted, brought them both back to reality.

"Do you think they're gone?" Vincent kept his eyes on hers a minute longer and then closed them focusing on the sounds coming from above.

"Yeah. I don't hear anything. Come on, we need to get you out of here before your lips get any bluer." Catherine nodded and smiled. Vincent smiled back, hoping she didn't notice the first thing he mentioned was her lips.

The two swam over to the side of the platform where the ladder was. Catherine made it there first, seeing that Vincent was moving slowly through the water, only using one arm to paddle.

"Are you alright?" She asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Just have a cramp in my arm is all." Catherine eyed him, not believing a single word. She may not have had beastly senses, but she could tell when Vincent was lying. "I'm fine, really." He started to use his other arm to swim too, wincing with every stroke. She just rolled her eyes and headed up the ladder.

Vincent eventually made it onto the dock pulling himself up with one arm. Catherine walked over to the edge. "Here let me help." She reached out and grabbed his other arm.

"Ow!" Vincent pulled back his arm, a flash of his beast side coming out.

"I knew it!" Catherine stepped away throwing her hands up in the air.

"Yeah, you happy now?" Vincent spit out. He stood up and examined the damage, river water dripping all around him. Catherine walked over to his side.

"You're hurt let me take a look." Vincent shifted his body away from her.

"It's nothing." He pulled at his coat sleeve to see where the bullet had passed through. Blood was still seeping into the fabric. Catherine inched her way a little closer and saw how serious his injury was.

"Vincent you're shot! We need to get you to the hospital."

"_No_. No hospitals. I can fix this. I have some supplies back at my place. I just need to get there." He started walking, but stumbled. Catherine was there to steady him before he fell over. The exertion he used swimming and the blood loss he sustained from the wound was making him a little light-headed.

"_You_, are not going anywhere, at least not by yourself." Catherine slung his good arm over her shoulder. "Come on. My car's not too far from here." The soaking wet couple made their way off the dock and back into the dark New York City night. Where the rest of the evening would lead was anybody's guess really…

_Back at Vincent's Office/Apartment:_

"My landlord's gonna kill me." Vincent said as he looked down and saw the trail of river water they were leaving in the hallway.

"I'm just grateful you weren't cheap enough to get a place without an elevator. I don't know if I could have lugged you up six flights of stairs." Catherine saw the number 614 by the door and was relieved they were almost there.

"You would have though." Vincent turned his head and smiled. Catherine looked up at him, ignoring his smug comment, and asked,

"Where are your keys?" He looked down at his coat and then back at her.

"In the Hudson?"

"Very funny." That snide quip earned Vincent another glare.

"Don't worry it's unlocked." Catherine just shook her head and reached for the door handle.

"Do you always leave it that way? This is New York you know and you don't live in the nicest of neighborhoods." She pushed open the door and lead Vincent into the dark room.

"I figured anyone stupid enough with the intention of breaking into my place wouldn't let a lock stop them. And if I was home, then I would." Even through the darkness Catherine could tell Vincent was smiling at his last remark. She felt around the wall for the light and when it came on she saw that she was right.

"Come on." She pulled him through the reception area back to his office. When she walked into the room she saw the Murphy bed left down and unmade. _Typical_, she thought. "Down you go." Catherine lifted his arm off her shoulder and let him fall back on the bed. She walked over to the desk and turned on the lamp. "Now take off your shirt."

"What?" Vincent stopped midway from slipping his boots off and looked up at her. Catherine was already in the bathroom pulling the medical kit out from under the sink.

"I need to clean the wound." She said, matter-of-fact, as she walked back into the room and placed the kit on desk. "Who knows what's been swimming in the Hudson. Come on, don't be shy. It's nothing I haven't seen before." This time Vincent rolled his eyes, but complied with her request. Catherine walked over to the side of the bed and helped him with his heavy wool coat. He winced a little when she pulled it off his one arm. She tried her best to be careful. Vincent may have been supercharged, but he wasn't immune to pain. Taking off his shirt was easier for him to handle, but not for Catherine.

"What?" Vincent ask as he tossed the wet shirt on the floor. Catherine exhaled, stopped staring at his bare chest and focused on the wound.

"The bullet went a little deeper than you let on, but it looks like the bleeding has stopped." She poured some iodine solution on a clean cloth and applied it to his arm.

"It missed bone and passed through without hitting anything major. Besides, I've had worse." Catherine's eyes wandered and found the scar right under his left ribs. Her face fell solemn, remembering the night she'd rather soon forget.

"I'm sorry about that." Her voice was soft and she kept her eyes down. "I don't think I ever apologized for…"

"…shooting me?" Vincent cut in. Catherine looked up at his face, her eyes filled with sadness. He hated seeing the light leave them. "You didn't, but don't trouble yourself. It's just a scar and not even the worst one you left." He smiled hoping his playful words would lighten up her mood. Although what he said, he meant. Catherine stayed silent for a minute, then spoke up.

"Was it worth it; you and me?" She looked at him, wanting an answer not only from him but for herself. "I mean if you could go back, would you rather not have met me?" His eyes met hers and without hesitation Vincent responded,

"I'd do it all again in a heartbeat; scars and all." A timid smile returned to her face. She placed the cloth on the desk and reached for the sutures. "Here let me." Vincent stopped her hand with his. "I can take it from here." She looked down at his fingers touching hers, feeling that electric rush through her body warming up her shivering frame.

Vincent felt how cold she really was. "Cat, you need to get out of those clothes." This time, Catherine was the one with the puzzled look on her face. "I meant you should get cleaned up and out of those wet clothes. You're shivering like a leaf. The shower's right through there if you want."

"Right, thanks. I guess I should get this fishy smell off of me before I head back to my place. Are you sure you're ok?"

"Go." Vincent watched her as she left his side and headed into the bathroom closing the door behind her. He smiled to himself and finished suturing up his wound.

Catherine stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself in the reflection. _I look terrible_, she thought to herself as she swiped a wet lock of hair away from her face. She bent over and turned the hot water knob all the way up.

Steam filled the tiny space rather quickly. Catherine started shedding the wet layers of clothing that had clung to her delicate skin; each piece a weight being lifted off of her. She stepped over the edge of the tub and let the hot beads of water cleanse her body. Catherine brought her hands up to her face and saw them stained with blood, his blood. The red water dripped from her palms and swirled down the drain. It made what happened out there by the river that much more real. This time it was just a flesh wound, but it could have been much worse. She could have lost him and the thought of that happening….

Catherine stopped herself from spiraling and finished washing off. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. As she pulled the curtain back and looked around the room, she realized she had no dry clothes to change into. The only option Catherine had was the felted cotton robe hanging on the bathroom door. It was better than nothing, she thought.

"Vincent?" Catherine popped her head through the crack in the door.

"Yes? Is everything okay?" He finish applying the bandage and hurried across the room.

"Yes, it's just…" She stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but his Navy and cornflower blue striped robe. Vincent took a moment for the image to sink in and then smiled. Catherine looked down at herself, a little self-conscious. "I didn't have anything dry to put on and this was the only thing in the bathroom."

"I thought you might be needing something else to wear." Vincent walked back over to his desk. "That's why I found you these." In his hand was a folded women's blouse and skirt. "Heather usually leaves an outfit in the closet to change into before she leaves for the night. Lucky for you, she was in a partying mood." Catherine, for once, was grateful her sister loved the night life. She took the clothes from his hand.

"Thank you, not that I don't appreciate the robe." She hugged the silk and wool fabric against her chest, nervously darting her eyes around the room.

"No problem. Well I should probably get cleaned up too." He brushed passed her and headed for the bathroom. Catherine took a deep breath in and turned around.

"Vincent?" He stopped at the door frame, not by her calling his name but by the intense beat of her heart drowning out every thought and sound in his head.

He didn't say anything, he didn't have to. Vincent turned back to face her, both inching closer to one another. "You were shot tonight." Her voice, barely as whisper. They were just words, but the blatant realization they brought weighed heavy on Catherine's heart.

"I'm aware of that." Vincent replied, the distance between them growing smaller.

"Could you make sure that doesn't happen again?" His eyes kept being drawn to her lips as she spoke, wanting to silence them with his own.

"I'll try my best." Catherine lifted her chin as he lowered his head.

"Good." She said, her breath catching on his own as their lips parted.

"Good." Was last word he spoke before both their eyes closed and he leaned in, their lips barely brushing.

"Knock, knock! Hey Boss, are you decent? I could really use an aspirin. You won't believe that night I had…. Cat?" Heather stood there in the open door, gaping at her sister and Vincent, him without a shirt and Catherine in only a robe. Both Vincent and Catherine stepped back from each other and turned to Heather.

"It's not what it looks like."

(Yes…I had to… an "Oh Heather!" moment was necessary to stay true to BatB and the storyline. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Had to split it…it was too long and this seemed like a good cliffhanger! Stay tuned…)


	6. Chapter 6:Love The Way You Lie

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS. JUST BORROWING THEM FOR THE STORY.**

**Chapter 6: Love The Way You Lie**

"It's not what it looks like." Catherine said rather quickly, her conscience getting in the way of her ability to filter any thought. Heather propped herself against the door frame, swinging her ruby-red wedges in one hand.

"Oh really, because from where I'm standing I can clearly see what it _looked_ like." Her sister may have been a little tipsy, but she wasn't blind.

"What are you doing here, Heather?" Vincent's arms folded across his chest, both annoyed at her and a little embarrassed about his current shirtless situation.

"There was a _Dance Till You Drop_ marathon at Roseland's. You know, the ballroom down on Broadway."

"So you danced all night? What time is it anyway?" Catherine asked, her attention turning to the window and seeing the sun's rays peeking through the curtains.

"Early, I think. And no. Josh and I only made it about 45 minutes, but we spent the rest of the time laughing at the other couples and enjoying the refreshments. But then he ditched me and that's when I met Brian…" Heather let out a deep sigh, her mind and focus wandering to the memories of last night.

"And again I ask, why are you here?" However exciting Heather's night had been, all Vincent wanted was his question answered.

"Well, I might have had one too many _refreshments_ at the dance and told the cabby your address instead of my own. I was here anyway so I thought I'd bum an aspirin from you and maybe a cup of coffee…" Heather hunched over and squinted, getting a better look at Vincent. "Boss, what happened to your arm and why are your pants wet?" Catherine and Vincent both exchanged glances, a little lost for words.

"Well, that is a funny story. And one Vincent can fill you in on while I get dressed." Catherine hurried over to the bathroom and shut the door. Vincent's jaw fell, surprised she would leave him to explain. He turned his head back to Heather. She was barely able to stand on her own but wore a complacent smile on her petite face, waiting to hear that _funny_ story. He closed his mouth and remained aloof about the situation.

"I was on a case and your sister just happened to be there. That's all you need to know." Vincent started cleaning up his desk, stuffing the medical supplies back in the kit.

"Oh come on, Boss." Heather protested.

"No and that's…" The door to the bathroom creaked open, stopping Vincent from chastising Heather any further. Catherine slipped out, this time fully dressed, nervously sweeping her still damp hair to the side.

"Here," She handed Vincent the bathrobe, her fingers accidentally brushing his.

"Thanks." Her touch did something to him; awakened something in him that was neither man nor beast. A feeling more powerful and harder to control. His eyes couldn't help but meet hers once more, and for a moment, both forgot they were not alone.

"Are those my clothes?" Heather's voice brought them right back. Catherine dropped her hand and Vincent pulled away, holding the robe to his chest.

"Yes. Now do you possibly have some shoes I can borrow?"

"Take these. Couldn't wear them now if I wanted to." Heather held out her red heels.

"Thanks, but what are you going to wear?" Catherine took the shoes and leaned against the desk while she slipped them on.

"I've got some flats underneath my desk." Vincent stared mystified at his secretary and shook his head. He was starting to feel like Heather was treating his place as an extra closet.

"Well, I should really be going. Heather do you want a ride? Oh my car…" The leather seats of her Ford Deluxe were still drenched in river water and blood. Not something she really wanted to explain or have to get back into after having showered.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of your car. " Vincent said, his gaze focused on the floorboards as a way to avoid looking at her again.

"Thanks." Catherine replied, trying her best to do the same. "I guess Heather and I can take a cab…" Heather groaned at the thought of riding in a moving vehicle again and fell into the chair by the door.

"I really don't feel like getting back into another car. My head is still spinning."

"I've got it. You should get going," That was last thing Vincent wanted but it was probably the best thing for both of them.

"Okay, thanks." Catherine grabbed her purse off the desk, slowly dragging herself out of the office. She stopped and turned, clutching the door frame. "Don't forget to redress the wound after you've cleaned up."

"I won't. Remember, before all of this I was a doctor. I think I can handle it." He gave her a playful smile. Catherine couldn't help but return it with one of her own.

"Right. Well, I should probably go and rescue JT." Her hazel eyes stayed on his, not wanting to pull away. "Oh and sorry if I used all the hot water." Catherine said as she left the room.

"It's fine." He replied. And in his mind it was, because a cold shower was exactly what Vincent needed.

"Cat, we will talk about this later, if I remember." Heather shouted out as her sister exited the apartment. Her head whipped back around to Vincent, her nose scrunching up. "Why does it smell like fish in here?" The smile he once had quickly faded. He was seriously considering the benefits of getting locks on the place now.

Without bothering to explain, Vincent headed back to the bathroom, rummaged through the medicine cabinet and pulled the aspirin from the shelf. "Here, take a couple of these," He placed the bottle in her hand. "And then go make yourself a fresh, but strong, pot of coffee while I get cleaned up. I might have a job for you later and I need you at least somewhat sober."

"You got it boss." Heather teetered out of the office and headed back to the kitchen. It wasn't a long walk, but in her condition it was going to take a few minutes. Vincent shook his head and dragged himself back into the bathroom. His interesting night had finally come to an end, but the day had only just begun and for the P.I. it was sure to be a long one…

_Catherine's Apartment:_

The keys slipped back and forth between her hands as Catherine idled in front of the door, lost in her own thoughts. She kept telling herself nothing happened and there was no reason to feel guilty, but deep down Catherine knew that wasn't true. If Heather hadn't walked in when she did, she would have kissed Vincent or worse. More importantly, she wanted to, and that scared her. "I'm with Gabe," she said to herself. "Vincent and I don't work. I should just move on."

Catherine held up her apartment key and barely slipped it into the lock when the door creaked open. Something wasn't right; she had remembered locking up last night when she left. Catherine pushed on the door hoping to find JT making a sandwich in her kitchen and her Dad passed out on the couch sleeping off last night's bender, but that is not what she saw.

The room was empty, but not as she had left it. Cushions from the couch were tossed all around the room, broken pieces of ceramic that once were cups laid scattered across the wood floor and the television set Gabe had bought her was knocked over showing only static on the screen. Catherine stepped out of her shoes and moved into the apartment, quietly closing the door behind her. She reached into the painted vase by the entry and felt the cold metal brush against her fingertips. Catherine gripped the handle and pulled out the small Ladysmith revolver. She was the daughter of New York City's Police Commissioner; knowing how to handle a gun was second nature.

The bare soles of her feet lightly skipped across the room, careful as not to step on any of the broken dishware on the floor, while her eyes darted around the apartment for any sign of the intruder.

Catherine spotted a note with her name on the front in the middle of the coffee table. She bent down and picked up the slip of paper.

_**Your dad woke up. Things got heated when he saw me. Figured it had something to do with Vincent and he stormed off. Have to go now and warn the Big Guy. **_

_**JT**_

_**P.S. Sorry about the mess. **_

"Sorry about the mess?" She said aloud, surveying the damage once more. Her body relaxed as she fell into the tufted armchair. Catherine placed the gun on the coffee table, leaned back and closed her eyes. The surge of adrenaline she experienced just moments before was quickly replaced by annoyance. But in the scheme of things, a messy apartment and a few broken dishes wasn't all that bad. Maybe it was almost getting shot, swan-diving into the Hudson, nearly kissing her half-naked ex in his apartment, or her sister walking in on them that made all of this fall into perspective. Nothing could surprise Catherine at this point. That was until the doorbell rang.

The ringing buzz was swiftly followed by a light knock. "What now?" she whispered to herself. "Who is it?" Wondering who would be here this early.

"It's Gabe." Her eyes shot open. Panic and fear tightened in her chest. Gabe? She looked over at the Kit-Cat clock hanging on the wall above her fridge. The black curved tail swung back and forth as the big hand on the clock added another minute. "Nine o'clock?" Catherine knew it was morning, but didn't realize how late it actually was. "Catherine are you alright?"

"Yes! Coming!" She spun around the room. There was no time to clean anything up. Catherine jumped over the cushions and broken ceramic almost tripping on her way to the door. She straightened out her skirt, swiped back her hair and turned the handle.

"Hi." Catherine popped her head out of the crack, keeping Gabe from seeing the inside of her apartment.

"Hello…may I ask what's going on?" Gabe's question and puzzled expression were rightly warranted.

"Oh, I had to pick up Heather last night. She wasn't feeling good." Catherine winked at the last part.

"Oh." He was well aware of her little sister's affinity to the nightlife.

"She is sleeping it off now, but she kind of made a mess of the apartment." Gabe's eyes wandered, trying to peer inside the door. She just smiled and titled her head, discreetly attempting to block his view.

"And why are there shoes outside your door?" Gabe held up the pair of ruby-red wedges in front of her. Catherine had already started this conversation with a lie; a few more wouldn't hurt.

"She was stumbling around and I didn't want her to fall over on the hardwood so I made her take them off. I guess I just forgot about them" Catherine grabbed the heels from his hands. "Thanks. So what brings you by this early? I thought we weren't meeting until later."

"We're not. I just missed you is all and I was in the neighborhood." He adjusted his tie and pulled on the sleeves of his perfectly tailored suit. The cuff links alone could have covered the rent for Catherine's apartment.

"Oh, that's so sweet. I'd invite you in but…" Catherine glanced down at herself. She was still wearing her sister's clothes, her hair was not even brushed and she had no makeup on. But despite all that, her natural beauty was still beyond compare.

"Don't trouble yourself, sweetheart. I'm actually late for a meeting, but I will see you at the Waldorf Hotel around noon for our lunch with the Mayor. He wanted to catch up before the party tonight."

"Sounds great." She forced a smile. The last time they had met with the Mayor, he talked for two hours about his model airplane collection. On a list of things she wanted to do, that was not one of them.

Gabe smiled and was about to leave when he remembered, "Speaking of the party, you do have your dress for tonight, right?" Catherine's eyes widened, that forced smile still there.

"Picked it up yesterday." Another lie. She meant to stop by Maude's Dress shop, but the mess with her father and Vincent detoured her plans. Catherine made a mental note to call Tess as soon as Gabe left.

"Great. Cannot wait to see it on you." Gabe leaned in for a good-bye kiss. At the last second, Catherine turned her head, his lips catching her cheek instead. The move on her part was unintentional, but she did it just the same. He stepped back, a little surprised. Both remained silent, waiting for the awkward moment to pass. Gabe gave her a half-hearted grin and departed with his pride still intact, for the most part.

Catherine watched him head down the hall and slip into the elevator. She closed the door and pressed her back against it feeling her heart sink back down into her chest. All the lies she was telling to the people in her life weren't nearly as bad as the lie she was telling herself.

_Vincent's Apartment/Office:_

"Big Guy, you home?" JT peeked his head in through the door, hoping Vincent was there and not in jail or worse. He stepped into the apartment and saw Heather passed out on the couch cuddling the blanket that had been laid over her.

"Hey JT." Vincent strolled into the room carrying a bowl of _Rice Krispies_ and milk. He brought the rim up to his lips and downed a mouth full of the cereal. His one arm was still sore from getting shot, but he was adapting.

JT exhaled, grateful to see that his best friend was still breathing. He pulled off his hat and took another look at Heather, slightly confused by what was going on. "Your secretary sleeping on the job?"

"She had a rough night." Vincent said as he took a seat behind her desk, setting the bowl down and picking up the paper. For the first time, JT noticed the bandage peeking out from under his shirt and the way Vincent was nursing his left arm.

"And it looks like she wasn't the only one." JT marched across the room to get a better look. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing. Just a little mishap is all. Did you see Cat?" Vincent ignored his worry, laying the paper down and taking another gulp of his breakfast.

"No. I thought she was with you." _So did I_, Vincent thought to himself. He flipped the page, not really interested in the articles.

"She was. She left not too long ago to rescue you from daddy-duty." Vincent's satirical remark reminded JT of why he rushed over in the first place.

"Well, that's why I'm here. You gotta leave Big Guy." Vincent stopped fussing with the paper and swallowed what was left in his mouth.

"Why?" He quieted every other noise in his head and focused on the erratic heartbeat coming from inside his friend. JT was clearly afraid for him.

"Commissioner Reynolds knows you were with Cat last night." He mumbled under his breath.

"And how does he know that?" Vincent gave JT one of his _looks_.

"I didn't tell him if that's what you are implying." He threw up his hands and fell into one of the chairs against the wall, usually reserved for waiting clients. "He just figured it out when he saw me there at the apartment and not his daughter." Vincent closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, fighting off the headache forming between his eyes.

"I don't have time to deal with him." He got up from behind the desk and headed over to the coat rack, picking up his spare jacket. "Right now I have to go see a guy named Darius about a suit." Vincent carefully slipped his arms through the sleeves, wincing a little as the fabric brushed against the wound.

"Oh is this for our case? Where are we going?" JT jumped off the chair, eager to actually be out and working the streets.

"_My_ case, and we're not going anywhere." Vincent grabbed a hat off the hook. "But I do have a job for you." His friend's eyes brightened up a bit. "I called Lou's Garage, you know the one down in 59th, and had them tow Cat's car down to their shop."

"What happened to it?" JT asked.

"Let's just say it need a good cleaning. Anyway, it should be done soon. I need you to pick it up for me. There should be no charge, juts ask for Aaron. The kid owes me a favor."

"You want me to run an errand?" JT couldn't believe that once again he was being asked to do menial tasks for Cat. First babysitting her drunk father and now picking up her car?

"A very important and vital errand." Vincent adjusted his hat and patted JT on the arm. "Oh and take her with you," He nodded over at Heather. "I promised Cat I'd watch her and I really don't think she should be left alone." Vincent sensed his friend's disappointment and thought of something that might cheer him up. "You know Cat is best friends with Tess; she could put in a good word for you." JT's mood lifted a bit, thinking it over and then conceded.

"Fine, just go."

"I owe you buddy." Vincent said as headed out the door shutting it behind him.

Vincent really was going to owe JT. What he and Heather would discover on their little errand was vital and important. A matter of life and death really, especially for Vincent.

(How will Vincent's shopping trip go, will Cat go bored out her mind at their lunch with the Mayor, and what will JT and Heather discover on their little errand? Stay tuned to find out…)

*This Chapter is dedicated to my grandmother, Alice, and my grandfather, Ferren, who would have both been 85 years old this month. They grew up during this time period and I draw inspiration from them and my other grandparents for this story. Happy Birthday Grandma and Grandpa!


	7. Chapter 7: Can't Buy Me Love

**Love Me Dead**

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE CHARACTERS. JUST BORROWING THEM FOR THE STORY.**

**Chapter 7: Can't Buy Me Love**

_Bishop Brother's Suit Shop, Brooklyn:_

Vincent exhaled and pulled open the door. The tiny bell above his head rang as he walked in. Everywhere he looked there were suits; white ones, striped ones, formal tuxedos and flashy ones in bright colors. It was a bit overwhelming for the P.I. This was an entirely different world than the one he was used to. In his line of work, formal attire wasn't mandatory or necessary. It wasn't like he got invited to many parties; he mainly just crashed them.

"Welcome to Bishop Brother's Suit Shop. How may I help you?" A sharp-dressed young man strolled up to Vincent, measuring tape draped around his shoulders.

"I'm looking for someone named Darius."

"May I ask what for?" His chipper smile dropped ever so slightly. Vincent could hear his heartbeat increase, as beads of sweat dripped down his forehead.

"Sam Landon sent me here." A simple answer but one that made the young man swallow hard.

"You're not here to break my neck are you?" His voice quivered. Vincent stared, quickly clarifying his situation before the poor guy broke down.

"No. He sent me here to get a suit. He said Darius was the one I should ask for."

"Oh good. In that case, I'm Darius Bishop. You must be Vincent. They told me you were coming, I just didn't expect you to look like you do." Darius patted Vincent on the shoulder ushering him to the stand in the back of the shop.

"And how do I look?" Vincent asked, not really understanding what Darius meant.

"Like someone who could break my neck." The tailor's statement was a rational assumption. Vincent was trained in Special Forces, fought in a war, and broken one or two necks in his day. And there was the whole being part beast thing.

"That's fair." He replied.

"So Vinnie, may I call you Vinnie."

"You could, but then I might really have to break your neck." Darius stopped, his recovered heart now beating frantically again. Vincent slapped his shoulder. "That was a joke." No one ever got his humor.

"Right. Well, I know you need the suit for tonight so we'll have to do with what we have here. If you could just stand right up there and I'll take your coat." Darius reached up to help him, but Vincent pulled away.

"It's okay. I got it." He appreciated the help, but his arm was still healing and couldn't risk the guy pulling out the sutures. Vincent gingerly slipped off his coat, handed it to Darius and stepped up on the round platform.

"And who's this?" A man appeared behind Darius, placing an arm around his shoulders. He seemed a bit annoyed by the gesture.

"Just a client. Now if you don't mind I'm going to help this fine gentlemen find a suit."

"Alright baby brother. Look at you, taking over and doing things for yourself." He grabbed his brother's face, squeezed it and then gave him a playful slap. Darius stepped out from under his arm and pulled off the measuring tape from around his neck.

"I'm Joe Bishop, by the way, owner of this fine establishment." He extended a hand forward to Vincent.

"Vincent Keller. Nice to meet you." He smiled and took it, careful as not to shake too hard.

"Well, I have to go make a deposit down at the bank. But Mr. Keller, if he gives you any trouble just let me know." Joe elbowed his little brother.

"Will do." Vincent replied.

This suit fitting felt more like he was purchasing something for a funeral than a party. Vincent was measured from the neck on down, being pulled and turned all the while having to remain perfectly still so he wouldn't be stabbed by one of the pins.

"You sure are a well-built man." Darius tugged on the waist of the pants, making sure they fit just right. "I'm only saying it because I don't have to make any adjustments to this suit." Vincent smiled to himself.

"So since you are the go-to tailor for all the real muscle in this town, does that mean you've made a suit for this Tony Barnes I've heard so much about?" He casually slipped in the name hoping to get a little more information.

"Uh, no. Mr. Landon gives me the measurements and then sends someone down here to collect them when I'm done. Never actually met the guy." Darius finished tying the bow tie and stepped back, checking his work.

"No one has it seems." Vincent whispered under his breath. "Maybe I could ask your brother, Joe."

"No don't!" The young man blurted out, but then lowered his voice. "I mean, he doesn't know about me being in cahoots with less than savory characters, no offense."

"None taken."

"It's a good thing he ain't a cop, right?" Darius chuckled, nervously, changing the subject back to the fitting. "Okay that should do it. Take a look." He moved out of the way so Vincent could see himself in the mirror.

The reflection of a dapper man stood before him, but one he did not recognize. This man went out to fancy places, could buy his girl whatever she wanted and had a reputable job. This is the man Catherine wanted, the man she deserved. But it was only a suit; it couldn't change what he was no matter how good he looked in it. "You alright?" Darius' voice broke Vincent away from his own thoughts and back to reality.

"Yes. Are we done now?"

"Yeah, if you could just get changed, I'll wrap up the suit, and you'll be good to go."

"Great." This venture seemed less than profitable for the P.I. He was hoping his luck would change tonight. And it would, whether it was for the better, still remained to be seen….

_Subway Exit, the Bronx: _

Side by side, people stomped up the steps of the subway terminal exit. JT was among the crowd, pausing at the top to breathe in the fresh, well somewhat fresh, above ground air. He turned to his left then to the right expecting to see his small perky charge, but she was nowhere to be found. JT, slightly panicked, spun around and rushed back over to the stairs. There she was clinging to the railing, where the sunshine met the steps.

"Why is it so bright out here?" Heather groaned, squinting behind her round white sunglasses. They weren't much help against the afternoon sun.

"That would be the gin's fault, I gather." JT, rushed back down and helped her the rest of the way up.

"Remind me never to drink again." She said as they made it to the surface, straightening out her skirt.

"Never drink again." JT quickly replied. Heather glared through her black lenses.

"Very funny." He just smirked, turned and headed down the sidewalk. "Now where are we going?" She said and she hurried to catch up.

"I told you three times already. Lou's Garage to pick up your sister's car."

"Right," Heather said like she remembered. Paying attention was never her strong suit. "What happened to it anyway? The Boss didn't tell me much of anything."

"Yeah, well join the club, doll-face." JT was starting to feel like Vincent wasn't just shutting him out to protect him, but rather to keep him from getting in the way. Heather glanced over at him, hearing the hurt and disappointment in his voice. She could sympathize; Vincent treated her the same way.

"One of these days he's going to need us and we won't be there. We'll be out doing his busy work." JT had to laugh at her comment. Heather might have been a bit much, but she had her moments.

Lou's Garage was just a few blocks away from the subway, which both were grateful for. "There she is." JT said as he entered the shop patting the trunk of Cat's Ford Deluxe. The cobalt blue body sparkled under the flickering lamp above. Heather tentatively entered the open garage door, darting her eyes back and forth.

"This place seems like bad news." JT glanced back and her and rolled his eyes.

"The Big Guy wouldn't have sent us down here if were trouble. Believe me. You're just itching 'cause you had to ride the subway all the way to the South Bronx. I bet a dame like you ain't used to slumming' it around these parts." He chuckled to himself. Heather stormed up to him, hands on her hips.

"I'll have you know…"

"Can I help you twos?" JT swung around to a familiar, albeit grown up, face.

"Aaron Keller! As I live and breathe!"

"JT, is that you?" The two men exchanged a friendly hug and stepped back. "What's it been, like ten years or something? Where you been?"

"Oh you know, around. But look at you! All grown up with a job of your own." JT reached out his hand and ruffled the young man's hair. The last time he saw this kid, he was just that, a kid.

"Hey, hey watch it." Aaron smoothed out his hair and smiled. JT was still surprised to see him.

"Vincent didn't tell me it was you we were going to see."

"Sounds like him. Always something or _someone_ else on his mind." Aaron winked and gave JT a playful punch on the arm. Both men laughed, while Heather looked on, unamused.

"Something the matter, Cookie?" Aaron asked, seeing the annoyance written all of her face. JT looked over at Heather and grinned.

"This part of town gives her the creeps."

"I can speak for myself, thank you very much." Heather interjected.

"Well, ain't she a pistol." Aaron smiled giving her a once over, tossing the oil-stained rag over his shoulder.

"The name's Heather. Now, I hate to break up this little reunion, but the car?" Losing patience for this, and wanting to leave, she chose to hold her tongue and not respond to his comment. Not something Heather did very often.

"Right. Gave the old bird a good shining inside and out. No more fishy smell and I got the blood stains right out." Aaron pulled the keys from his pocket and dangled them in the air.

"Blood?" Heather's eyes widened at the word. There was no way she was getting in that car now.

"Thanks, kid, but we gotta skip." JT grabbed the keys from Aaron and steered Heather toward the passenger side door, practically forcing her into the seat. He swung around the front and slid into the driver's side. JT started up the engine and adjusted the mirror. Aaron leaned against the open window.

"Yeah sure. Good seeing you JT. Another time then, Cookie?" He glanced over at Heather, giving her a wink, but she just turned away. JT looked back and forth between the two and thought to himself, _what's it with Keller men and Chandler women... _

"Now do I turn left or right?" JT said to himself as the car idled at a stop sign. Heather sat back in her seat, arms crossed.

"We're lost aren't we?"

"We are not lost, I'm just trying to find the quickest way back to the apartment. Now stop your yammering and let me think." They were lost but it wasn't like JT was going to admit that.

"Sure, but I'm right."

"Heather, please could you just….duck!" JT slipped down the seat pulling her with him.

"What's the matter with you?" Heather yelled, once the shock wore off. JT didn't say anything, just popped his head back up and peered over the steering wheel. There was Gabe, outside of the Bustamante's Garage, looking as if he was waiting for someone. JT turned to Heather and whispered,

"It's Gabe, you know your sister's boyfriend and my boss. I'm supposed to be at the club stocking the bar. If he sees me, I'm done for. Not to mention he'll probably want to know why we are in Cat's car without her. Too many questions and none of them good."

"Well, what is Gabe doing here anyway? This really isn't his scene." Heather was right. A crooked mechanics shop down in the South Bronx was definitely not a place a wealthy ADA would frequent, unless he was up to something.

JT cautiously looked back up, surprised by what he saw. Marco Bustamante was standing there with Gabe, eyes shifting around holding a brown package. The two men exchanged the items, Gabe handing Marco a briefcase in return for whatever was in the box. JT had seen this scenario in the movies and it was never good.

"What's happening?" Heather asked, pulling on his coat. JT slipped back down.

"I'm not sure, but I think you sister's boyfriend is dealing in some pretty shady business."

"Well, I gotta tell Cat!"

"No."

"Why not?" Heather asked, confused by why JT would want to protect Gabe. She may have seen it as that, but it was definitely not his intention. No, this bartender from Queens had bigger aspirations and saw this an opportunity.

"Don't you see? This is the perfect way for us to show the Big Guy that we are valuable members of this team."

"We are?"

"Yes! We are going to do a little investigating of our own. You with me?" JT's eyes widened, the excitement of this discovery and possible lead overtaking his better judgment. Heather just shrugged her shoulders and said,

"What else am going to do this afternoon?"

_Maude's Dress Shop:_

"I still can't believe it! To think, me, Tess Vargas, singing at the Waldorf Astoria in front of all the Glitterati of New York. What luck, Helen Forrest backing out at the last minute…Cat are you listening?" Tess turned to her friend as the two exited the dress shop.

"What?" Catherine looked up from staring at the garment bag in her arms.

"What's eating you? You've barely said two words this entire time. You sick or something?"

"No…I don't know, maybe." Tess grabbed Catherine's arm, stopping her in the middle of the sidewalk.

"This doesn't have anything to do with _monster-man _does it?"

"Do you have to call him that? He has a name you know." Catherine was well aware of her friend's opinion of her ex. They did break up because he chose his beast side over her, but still she couldn't help but defend him, even now.

"Sorry, _Vincent_. Well does it?" She patted the bag draped over her arm, debating what to say. A simple _no_ would have been easy, but the truth spilled out instead.

"I was with him last night," Tess' eyes widened, "and we almost kissed." Catherine slipped out of her friends grasp and hurried down the sidewalk to mask the embarrassment of her confession.

"Wait, what do you mean you almost kissed?" Tess shouted as she rushed to catch her. That got Catherine's attention. She halted her steps and turned back.

"Shhh… I don't want all of New York City to know."

"Sorry. What were you doing with him anyway? I thought you were with Gabe."

"I was, I mean I am. Last night was a mistake, just an old habit; one I intend not to go back to."

"Good for you. At least you have the party tonight were you can forget your troubles and not think about you-know-who."

"You're right. And once this case is done, we both can move on." There was that phrase again- _move on_. But with Vincent, it was easier said than done. Especially when fate kept throwing them together.

"That's the spirit!" Tess gave her a reassuring nudge and then remembered to ask, "Say, didn't you have a lunch or something?" Tightness and panic wrapped around Catherine's chest as she glanced down at her watch. She had completely forgotten about lunch with the mayor. There was just so much on her mind that it had slipped through. However, subconsciously, it might have been on purpose.

"Dang! I'm gonna be late." Catherine waved her arm up in the air, hailing a cab to take her to Park Ave. The yellow taxi pulled up to the curb beside them. She turned back to Tess, "Here," Catherine unloaded the garment bag into her friend's arms, placed the key to her apartment and some cash for a ride there on top, "take the dress back to my place and I'll meet you there to get ready. Oh and just ignore the mess."

"Guess it's nice having a sugar daddy?" Tess chortled back as she grabbed the keys and cash before they fell off. Catherine just ignored her, hopped into the back seat of the cab and shut the door. Tess yelled out as the taxi pulled out, "Good luck!"

_Peacock Alley Restaurant, Waldorf Astoria Hotel:_

Catherine rushed through the revolving doors, straightening herself up before casually strolling over to the Peacock Alley restaurant. It was a different world inside these walls; a world she had conformed to, because she thought it was for the best. But the events of late had her questioning those decisions and what really was _best_ for her.

She made it up to the entrance of Peacock Alley and peered down at her watch. It was only a little past noon. Not exactly on time, but not really late either. She was hoping the men had already ordered, maybe making this lunch date a little shorter. Catherine walked up to the maître d' at the stand.

"Pardon me, I'm here for a lunch reservation with…"

"Ms. Chandler, there you are! Come, come!" The boisterous voice rang across the dining room. Everyone in the restaurant turned and stared at Catherine.

"Never mind." The maître d' gave her a kind but pitying smile. A faint blush filled her cheeks as she made her way over to the mayor's table. As she got closer, she found it lacking her date. Gabe was late; he was never late. Catherine would have been worried if she hadn't been so annoyed at him leaving her alone to lunch with the mayor and his model airplanes.

"Oh did I tell you about the article they're doing on my collection in _Model Airplane News_?" _Three times already_, Catherine thought to herself, but kept a fake smile on while the mayor continued boasting about tiny engines and rubber something or others. "It is such an honor you know. I'm looking forward to discussing my article with Mr. Rockefeller tonight at the…Gabriel!" Catherine perked up her head and turned around, relieved that he had finally showed up, but irritated that it was a half-hour after she had arrived. "There you are. We were beginning to think you stood us up." Gabe smiled and bent down to greet Catherine with a kiss on the cheek.

"Yes, what took you so long?" She whispered in his ear, through gritted teeth. He pulled back and took a seat next to her.

"You'll have to excuse my tardiness. My meeting took longer than expected and then we ran into a little car trouble." A waiter came by and placed the cloth napkin on his lap. Gabe nodded politely at the man and continued, "Well, this looks delicious. What is it?" He stared down at the round creamy concoction of food nestled in a bed of lettuce.

"The famous Waldorf Salad. I did the honors of ordering for you. This pretty little thing looked as if she was wasting away." The mayor squeezed Catherine's arm as she picked at the food with her fork. She wasn't really hungry and this white blob in front of her wasn't making her appetite any better.

"Now, where was I?"

"The party! You were talking about tonight's masked ball." Catherine interjected hoping to change the subject to anything besides tiny plastic planes.

"Yes, of course. It was such a splendid idea for Warner Brothers to host a Hollywood style party for the release of their new film _Week-end at the Waldorf_ at the actual Waldorf. And a masquerade party at that! Oh it is going to be wonderful." Catherine wished she had felt the same. "They've been setting up the Grand Ballroom for weeks now. Everyone who is anyone is going to be there. Celebrities are already checked in. You know I saw Lana Turner at the concierge desk. And I even heard that the Windsor's are going to be there." Catherine about choked on the grape in her throat at the sound of that name.

"Are you alright, Ms. Chandler?" The mayor asked, a little surprised. Catherine swallowed what was in her throat, feeling it scratch all the way down.

"Fine…wrong pipe." Gabe reached for the stainless steel water pitcher in the middle of the table, getting something for her to wash it down. He offered the drink but her hand swept right past it and grabbed the glass of chardonnay instead. The two men just looked on, speechless, as Catherine downed the entire drink in one gulp. The mayor leaned over to Gabe and whispered,

"I take it she knows the Windsor's?" His ADA mind was working the best possible spin for the situation.

"Uh, Catherine and Tori have a little history, but it's nothing to fuss about. You know, girl troubles."

"Ah, yes." The mayor winked at Gabe, letting him know he understood completely. Catherine took offense to their chauvinistic characterization of women and would have spoken up if her throat wasn't still burning. Instead she just forced a smile and continued the role she had been playing for months now. Catherine didn't need a mask for tonight's party, she was already wearing one…

(What will happen to Vincent at the meet, will JT and Heather get themselves into trouble playing detective, will Catherine choose her heart over her head, what was in that package and what is Gabe up to? All of this and a Masquerade? So many questions that will hopefully be answered soon…Stay tuned!)


End file.
